Book 01, Chapter 06
Sweat splashed on the floor. Mahie’s head bounced into this puddle. She reached back, rubbed her head and cradled it as her eyes screwed shut. As she forced her eyes to open, she rolled aside. Where she was lying only a second ago, Suge’s boot came crashing down and sent a rattling shudder through the floor.
Mahie continued to roll, barely avoiding the pursuing stomps. With each crash, the ground quaked. From the brief glances Mahie could get of her attacker, she saw he delivered his attacks with the same level of calm indifference a person would have while stepping on a scurrying pest. Even with the calm face and almost bored steps, the collisions of boots thrust into solid ground jarred through to the bone. While the floor never caved into a crater, it would be expected to with how much force was being delivered into it.
Scurrying to her feet, Mahie barely dodged several jabs. Her evasions weren’t out of skill, but out of luck. That luck ran out as Suge’s fist made contact with Mahie’s stomach. She found herself airborne and the wind knocked out of her.
Arms braced her fall as best they could, but even they couldn’t make her encounter with the ground any less gruesome. She rolled about, clutching her injuries. Tears and blood streamed from her face.
Consciousness started fading when she felt herself pushed onto her back and a pressure applied to her torso and head.
Gasping wildly, Mahie was wrenched from her black out. Her body bolted upright, but was stopped by a gentle restraint. Vision cleared enough to show Ayabegei kneeling over her. Mahie looked down to see a large harness fixed over her torso, thighs, and arms.
Suge fought Wits in the center of the room. Not once did he turn his attention over to Ayabegei and Mahie.
“Try to stay still,” Ayabegei calmly, yet firmly advised.
“I am repairing your body now. No signs of internal head trauma,” she continued, as a calm as nurse applying a small bandage.
“Oh that’s great!” Mahie winced. “I’m glad that savage beating was actually just nothing.”
“He was restraining himself quite a bit,” Ayabegei replied.
“It didn’t matter!” Mahie snapped back, Ayabegei’s attempt at comfort failing categorically.
“I’m no fighter. Not at all! I can’t bring myself to hurt or hit anyone, even if I wanted to!” Mahie ranted, grunting at the reconstruction harness’s painful work.
“Your body is already at normal functioning. Internal bleeding is stop—“ Ayabegei reported.
“Stop that!” Mahie barked.
Ayabegei’s eyes snapped to her patient’s.
“You need to keep training,” Ayabegei reminded.
“Stop being so cold,” Mahie replied. “I can’t just be patched back up and be expected to fight. I do not fight at all anyway. I don’t have that mindset!”
“Neither do I,” Ayabegei stated, starting to remove the harness.
“There are ways you can win a battle without fighting,” she added, helping Mahie to lie against the wall. “This is tough I know, but we cannot let you be killed in action, so this training is necessary.”
“Okay, how? How do you fight without fighting?” Mahie groaned.
While her body had been put back together, ever cell in her body still screamed in pain. Her body wasn’t eager to return to battle.
Ayabegei stood up and approached the center of the room. She strode right into a pitched one-sided battle between a Teseg and a Hifinif. With the same ease as ducking a low hanging branch, Ayabegei walked right under Suge’s swinging arm.
“You and I,” Ayabegei announced to Suge.
“Specialist Huhoff-Ye, step out and recollect yourself.”
The ground rumbled as Wits quickly stepped away with her heavy feet.
“Junior Lieutenant Vihili,” Ayabegei stated calmly. “Start recording.”
Cameras in the room’s walls let out an audible chime.
No sooner had this tone sounded before Suge delivered a series of quick jabs. Ayabegei spun away backwards. In her spin, she lined her arms up backward, sending her lab coat flying forward as she wheeled backward.
Suge swatted the distraction aside as he closed in on his retreating opponent. Suge threw several more jabs forward and supplemented with a series of mid-level kicks. His attacks and movements didn’t carry the savagery you would associate with such power he wielded. Each movement was confidently made with no superfluous flourishes. He didn’t swing about in a rage or display any deviation from a calm, but deadly focus. It was the dropping of an executioner’s axe, not the spiraling style of a duelist’s blade.
Ayabegei’s movements were also filled with a resolute confidence, but of a different nature. She moved with the slightest grace, expending little energy with subtle movements and flowing around the attacks leveled at her.
Her head drifted slightly, just avoiding the cannon blast of a straight punch. Her eyes were narrowed as if she was falling asleep. Not a single blow was thrown by her. Evasion after evasion, Ayabegei dodged every throw launched at her. Holds and grapples were slipped through like a squirrely little bastard.
The executioner’s axe increased its tempo. Blows launched more rapidly. These fists and feet missed their targets by only breaths. Ayabegei’s hair fluttered along the spiked arms hurled her way. Her clothing whipped back as kicks pushed into the flowing material.
Amidst a combo, a spiked arm delivered a thrusting blow. Ayabegei stepped into the air and sent her arms forward and down, pressing into the incoming limb. Vaulting up and over, Ayabegei landed unharmed on her feet behind her attacker.
Each person in the chamber watched in fascination as the two fighters sauntered around the fighting area. Not a single attack connected with the evasive doctor, who responded with no attacks of her own.
Suge’s movements grew sluggish and less precise. His mouth finally opened to take breathes.
Both fighters stopped their movements.
“Fatigue can stop a fight just as thoroughly as actively attacking,” Suge bellowed to the observing students. “You’ll need to learn how your body best operates in combat and train your skills to perfect that interaction. Synchronization of your will and your body is the absolute key to physical performance. Listen to your body, and have it listen to you.”
“You must also adopt new methods to adapt to a changing battle,” he continued, voice shaking the students just as his attacks shook the room.
“Being locked within a style or mentality will not help you at all,” he shouted as he quickly closed in on Ayabegei.
Hurling a combo of attacks, and culminating with the same thrusting arm, Ayabegei readied to push off from the attack. Suge stumbled as he made his movements, bringing his arm to swing under Ayabegei’s outstretched arms. A tremor shook through the chamber as Suge drove his leading leg back, regaining his balance from the intentional stumble.
With this thrusting footing, he reached up and caught one of Ayabegei’s outstretching arms before she could reroute them. Technically being in the air, Ayabegei was lifted higher, swung upward and into a falling arc, culminating in a sickening crunch.
None of the students expected Ayabegei to move again, much less that she would stumble to her feet and limp towards the reconstruction harness. She strapped herself in and placed a mask over her head. As the harness reconstructed her body, the snapping and grinding of bones echoed throughout the room. With a pop, her nose shifted back into place as nanomachines flushed through and rebuilt the cartilage.
“That’ll be enough for this class. You’ll study the footage of the demonstration we’ll upload shortly,” Suge announced as he stepped towards the exit.
“Clean yourselves up. Briefing should be soon,” he ordered, departing the training room.
Mahie, Wits, and Rio each looked over at the recovering doctor.
“Will you need help?” Wits inquired.
“I will be fine,” Ayabegei gasped. “It is nothing I will not be able to handle. Soon, it will be nothing any of you cannot handle.”
Each Specialist swapped the same worried glances. None wanted to be so inured to physical trauma that such an injury wouldn’t faze them.
“Go ahead and get cleaned up and back to your posts,” Ayabegei ordered, her voice lost in the popping of bones sliding into place.
————————————–
Teliar brought his robotic legs to a stop aside the education suite’s control desk. Cisimi’s head swiveled so that she could see him with one of her compound eyes. After pressing a few more keys on her console, she spun completely around to face the Senguin child. She couldn’t crane her head up too far as Ilyahok had a shallow vertical angle of head movement.
“Was there something wrong?” Cisimi asked, antenna on her head flittering about.
Teliar deftly pressed keys near his side, bringing his mechanical legs to a crouch, bringing him to eye level.
“I was wondering,” he slowly begun. “Why are you even out in Anlov Space? You’re an Ilyahok; why don’t you live with your own?”
Cisimi screeched loudly, prompting Teliar to rapidly press commands into his legs and having them start to retreat backwards.
“No, no, sorry,” Cisimi pleaded as her antenna flittered and stroked along the thick hairs dotting her head.
“That’s about the equivalent of our laugh,” she explained to a re-approaching Teliar.
Cisimi reached up to her mandibles and tapped at the small chips implanted on the insides.
“These can’t translate that at all,” she added. “I saw you were looking up my species.”
Teliar laughed nervously, still a rattled from being shrieked at.
“I finished my lesson early. So why don’t you still live in the Omne Sphere on your cradle planet? The entry said there was some schism, but the data was absent from our mainframe.”
Omne, short for Omneewaet’teemb, which was part of an enourmous poem that’s fundamental to their culture, was Anlov’s northern neighbor. It predated Anlov by thousands of years and covered an area larger than Anlov’s Sphere. Omne had been startled by the technological level and expanse of Anlov relative to its age. However, Anlov’s performance in Omne’s traditional Introduction War earned a peaceful relationship between the two Spheres. It’s not to say there was no unease, chafing, or fundamental disagreements. Quite the contrary.
“As you may have read about our culture, coming from a hive style arthropod ancestry, we had a very tight social structure. Very rarely does one show a significant amount of individualism. It wasn’t that it was punished, just that it wasn’t really in our nature,” Cisimi chittered.
“It was even more rare when a family does, and unheard of when a group of families did,” she trailed slightly, fidgeting by rubbing her smaller middle arms against each other.
“Anyway, my grandfather led a group of families from Hidet to settle in Anlov space,” Cisimi explained.
Teliar noticed she was started to flip through pages with her free hand, and constantly flipped the same page over.
“Was something wrong on your cradle planet?” Teliar treaded lightly.
“Oh! Oh not at all!” she quickly chirped. “Matters on Hidet were as good as ever from what my grandparents told me.”
Teliar was no fool. Picking up on the nervous behavior of the Junior Lieutenant was evident to even the most unobservant person. He knew that Cisimi wasn’t telling the entire truth, but figured he wouldn’t press further. No doubt he had his own topics he didn’t like to discuss.
“So what of about you? Are your sisters your entire family?” Cisimi asked, translator showing a shortcoming by creating a clumsy translation.
Now it was Teliar’s turn to be anxious as one of the topics he hesitated to discuss just came up.
“Yeah,” Teliar answered reluctantly. “We looked out for each other. I’m glad we aren’t on Midin anymore.”
Roles reversed as Cisimi caught on to how Teliar answered the question only slightly before transitioning to a change of subject. Her middle arms rubbed against each other slower. He hadn’t pressed on with a subject she didn’t want to talk about, so Cisimi figured she would exchange the same courtesy.
“From your progress on the education programs, it’s easy to see you were a good student,” Cisimi commented, intentionally avoiding a reroute to the subject of the Senguin family.
“School was my escape. When the schools closed, I felt myself toughening up quickly. Like Rio,” Teliar replied with growing sadness. “She was a good kid, but even I see how she is now. Pieces of her kinder self show up every once in a while, but…”
Translation implants in her “ears” relayed the tone and inflection of the voice it translated to Cisimi.
“If your agreeable nature is genetic, I’m sure she’ll come around as you have,” Cisimi chirped happily.
Back on Anlov Home, Teliar didn’t think the other crewmembers would have much relevance to him. Smiling, he was glad to be wrong.
————————————–
“You look like hell,” Nuta observed, turning around in the pilot’s seat.
“Why Specialist Odeylum, you say the sweetest things,” Mahie sneered, throwing herself into her seat at the navigation station.
Her body screamed from her first day of combat training. Her prior days of stamina and strength training hurt like nothing else, but they didn’t compare to this. Combat training days would now be the worse she realized.
“Sorry,” Nuta replied, heading over to the navigation station.
“How bad was the first day of combat?” Nuta asked.
Separating a pair of drink pouches down a perforated line, the pilot handed one over to the navigator. She took the drink, opened its straw spout, and guzzled the entire contents in a couple large gulps. She leaned back and sighed loudly.
“Any more word on where we need to place our orbit?” Mahie asked, not wanting to answer Nuta’s question.
“Last I heard, we’d be landing on the moon. Still waiting on the final plan from the commander.” Nuta answered, stepping over to his station and climbing into the seat.
“Heads up guys,” Dogot announced through the bridge comm. “Those two are on their way.”
Bickering voices could be heard down the hall past the bridge’s closed door. Mahie and Nuta both tried their best to steel themselves as Ayabegei and Geib burst through the door. Like having family members yelling at each other, the navigator and pilot reacted like the other family members in the hypothetical scenario and tried their best to make themselves as scarce as possible. Large, pale eyes peeked over the navigation console while Nuta sunk low in his seat.
“We’re not landing on the moon. The dissent is demanding otherwise,” Geib told the bridge crew with an incensed sigh.
“I’m the ‘dissent’ am I?” Ayabegei retorted calmly.
Her voice never drifted above a reasonable level, but had a special tone that could best be approximated to her yelling. It was a voice that rung with disappointment, annoyance, and disgust that cut just as much as any shout. She tilted her head down slightly and slanted to the side just as slight. Blue eyes leered with the iciest chill out from under her brow. Arms tightly folded in front of her torso completed the image.
“Your reckless disregard for regulation will be stopped before it even gets the chance to start,” Ayabegei tersely commented.
“You keep saying I have a habit of breaking rules, but I haven’t yet,” Geib replied. “Is there a rule I don’t know about wherein you must be appeased at every second?”
“Do not be stupid. You have defied countless rules in your acquisition of candidates,” the doctor carefully outlined. “You were given a blank slate with the clearance for this mission.”
“Exactly. So you should have no problem,” Geib interjected.
“The problem is that realistically you have broken regulations even if the record shows nothing,” Ayabegei replied.
She pressed the tip of her finger on the bridge of her nose in the same way one pushes their eyeglasses back up. Solid polymer trails poured from the device she wore on the bridge of her nose. They floated in the air and froze into shape as two panels in front of her eyes. Readouts flashed across her deployed glasses with such intensity that her eyes couldn’t be seen behind the lenses.
Moving her right hand up from her folded arms, she extended her index finger. A projection formed above the solitary finger showing a scan of a document. With a single authoritative gesture, she held up a scan of the documentation for Geib’s record of regulation violations.
“It is clean,” Ayabegei commented, eyes now gleaming through her glasses. “With the small exception of that asterisk.”
“I forgot that an asterisk is grounds for the forceful removal of the commanding officer,” Geib dismissed sarcastically.
“Your exaggerations are not amusing. The footnotes attached to that little asterisk speak volumes, namely that you are under watch. By me,” Ayabegei chastised, pressing her finger back against her nose.
Frigid eyes now had nothing blocking their path as they burrowed into Geib’s.
“Your plan of landing the ship on the moon, while not distinctly against regulation since the moon has no detected sentient life, is discouraged anyway,” Ayabegei detailed with all the warmth typical of an emotionless bureaucrat.
“Given your asterisk, I am stepping in to override that idea. Since it is discouraged, I am upgrading that to ‘not permitted’,” she summarized.
“You said it yourself, there’s no sentient life detected down there,” Geib whined. “What’s the harm in going down, landing, and investigating as a larger group?”
“This is no picnic,” Ayabegei rebuked. “These missions are serious. Have your interludes on your own time.”
Geib leaned forward, wearing a large goofy smile.
“Did you want to go on a picnic? Sounds like it’d do you good to relax some,” Geib laughed. “I could take you on one if you want.”
Ayabegei recoiled just ever so slightly, like how you would when you smell something strange. Luckily it wasn’t an odor that repelled her, but merely the audacity of the commanding officer.
“I am not sure what you’re getting at,” Ayabegei replied with a single eyebrow rising. “The kind of familiarity you’re suggesting is inappropriate “
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Geib almost cheered. “You’re filling in gaps with your presumptions of my personality.”
Cutting through the commander with her glare in silence, Lieutenant Rugebov finally sighed and rubbed her forehead.
“We’re not landing on the moon,” she reiterated, turning to leave the bridge.
“Yes boss,” Geib grumbled.
Walking out, Ayabegei paused, shook her head and continued with the door closing behind her.
The commander turned to face Mahie who leaned over the top of her console. Resting her head on her hands, she turned her glance from the closed door back to the commander. She hummed to herself blissfully.
“You enjoyed the show huh?” Geib asked rhetorically. “Well, you heard her. Put us in orbit above the haven strip on the sun-to-shade side. Around the equator preferably.”
Mahie just smiled at him, humming to herself.
“You got that?” Geib asked, perplexed by the navigator’s behavior.
“Mhm,” Mahie acknowledged, nodding her head too. “I’ll have the pilot put us there.”
“Okay. Good then,” the commander replied as he exited to bridge.
“Briefing will be soon,” he added before the doors closed behind him
Only after the sound of Geib’s departing footsteps faded, did Mahie let out a long sigh.
Nuta turned around to face her, sitting with her arms bracing her head up, almost lying on the console.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Mahie asked, turning her head to face him.
“Isn’t what beautiful?” Nuta asked, eyes tracing around to show he was trying to figure out what she was talking about.
“Love.”
Violent coughs erupted from the pilot seat as Nuta choked on the drink he had been sipping. Raising his arms and striking his own chest, he cleared up his coughing fit and transitioned into a stream of laughter.
“Love?” Nuta cleared his throat. “I must have a terrible idea of what love is. All I heard was them squabbling like an old married couple.”
“I know!” Mahie spouted, now kicking her feet up and down.
“You didn’t see their bodies. The way they moved, the way they breathed,” Mahie trailed. “It’s obvious to me. I catch on to people really quickly.”
She looked over to Nuta’s quizzical, smiling face.
“It’s a Gyedth thing,” she clarified as she climbed down from the console and started bringing up coordinate information.
Nuta turned back to face his consoles.
“You’re imagining things. I didn’t see any love there,” Nuta laughed.
He turned back around to face her. He placed his head in his hands just as Mahie had done, and forced a starry-eyed look on his face.
“With all of this you were doing, I’m thinking it’s probably a kid thing,” Nuta observed.
“Whatever you say,” Mahie dismissed in a singsong voice.
That social pattern adaptation the Gyedth possessed extended to how she was growing inured to Nuta calling her a child. Regardless of any crewmembers’ preferences, the atmosphere on the ship between the crew was always of sparring banter.
————————————–
Blue and green swirled in the representation of the gas giant. Its clouds swam within the giant sphere like a toy marble. Orbiting around it were several small spheres and geometric blobs at different orbit distances and speeds. Two moons were marked with suspended nametags that chased them as they frolicked around the planet.
“Boss, would you like to do the briefing?” Geib asked cheekily.
Ayabegei leveled frigid death at him from across the table as she stood up.
From across the table, Nuta noticed Mahie nodding slightly to get his attention. She darted her eyes back and forth from either side of the table, at Ayabegei and Geib. She smiled wider.
Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Nuta dismissed Mahie’s absurd assessment. Did she even know how sarcasm and teasing worked? Just because Geib teased Lieutenant Rugebov didn’t mean he had any sort of interest in her. Besides, Lieutenant Rugebov didn’t look like she felt anything but disapproval for Geib. Is that what love looked like to Mahie?
Ayabegei stood up straight, running her hands along her coat to lessen any wrinkles, even though it was completely immaculate. After clearing her throat, she pressed her index finger to the node she wore on the bridge of her nose. Fluidly, the glasses took shape and froze into place. Reflections from the holographic projection in the center of the table flashed across her glasses, giving them an opaque appearance. A data pad was held in her left hand and hung down to rest on her flexed bicep. Projected screens from her own internal computer were scrolled and navigated between with a stylus she held in her right hand.
Towering over the table and its occupants stood the very image of unflinching competence. With movements echoing the precise cuts of a surgeon, Ayabegei scrolled through projections and sent the relevant documents to the screens in front of each crewmember. Her poise was that of a strict headmaster. Even though she was moderately short, she stood like a giant with her atmosphere.
“Twenty-two years ago, Anlov established an observation, supply, and relay station on the innermost moon of gas giant Pas-332-D, Pas-332-D-2,” she started.
Already, Pip-is was confused. He looked over to Geib who offered a comforting nod and gestured with his hand to “not worry about it.”
“This station is largely automated and rarely has a sizable population at any time,” Lieutenant Rugebov explained, bringing up images of the large station anchored into the moon’s rough surface.
“Very little of the Pas-332 solar system is particularly noteworthy,” she continued, now sending screens of mineral and element scans of the few astral bodies in the solar system.
“With one exception,” she declared.
Lancing with her stylus towards the orbiting moon labeled Pas-332-D-9, the fleeting orb enlarged to become the centerpiece of the room.
Barren expanse covered two faces of the planet. Just as any celestial body graced by the presence of a sun, there was an illuminated surface and its other half in the shade. In each of these areas of contrasting light, a vast desert spanned nearly the entire face. Countless canyons were present on one half of the darkened side while the lit side was devoid of any features.
Separating the two faces of light and dark was a thin strip of respite. An entire world was jammed into this miniscule area.
“Pas-332-D-9 is a haven-loop body,” Ayabegei summarized. “It has no rotation, so only the small loop is habitable between the regions of unending direct sunlight and the other of frozen blackness.”
Tracing a quick circle with her pointer, screen shots of an intensely dense jungle materialized for all to see.
“This loop has its own internal climate, atmosphere, water cycle, and plant life.”
“Since we placed a station in this system, we left Pas-322-D-9 alone and untouched. We had no reason to explore it when we had other haven-loop strips we could study closer to research stations,” she continued.
“The automated observatory on D-2 recently compiled a series of images of D-9’s surface. Analysis of these images provided a surprising find,” Ayabegei teased, bringing up side-by-side images.
Both images were from the same angle in the same area of the sun-exposed side near the haven loop. Distinguishing features were lacking on the drab surface with only the slightest troughs in the soil. Between the two images, there didn’t look like there was any difference.
With a swift series of slices from her stylus across the images floating in front of her, Ayabegei drew measured lines on the twin images in front of each crewmember. A grid crisscrossed the surface with larger lines between a nearly imperceptible rise and the edge of the haven loop.
“Pas-332-D-9 HAS a rotation,” Ayabegei revealed, drawing attention to the minute change in distance between that tiny rise and the haven loop.
“According to calculations, the moon completes its rotation at the approximate rate of once every 333.6 Anlov Standard years,” she continued, showing a real gift for relaying incredible information in as a dry a manner as possible.
Ocura raised her talon-like hand slowly before speaking. She didn’t wait to be called on since they didn’t have to, but still she wanted to show she was planning on speaking.
“So that moon has been rotating for the past twelve years and no one noticed? Even with the observatory right next door?” she asked with a questioning shrug.
“If I could answer this,” Cisimi cautiously started, looking to the others for approval.
“Why not” was the consensus in body language.
Cisimi’s middle limbs folded out from their tucked position against her torso. They rapidly clicked away at holographic projections she brought up in front of her. Tilting her head periodically to catch a brief glimpse, she navigated through the data they were provided.
“It’s all about perception,” Cisimi led in.
Data spreadsheets materialized of the scheduled times the observatory even looked in the direction of Pas-332-D-9. Spans of decades went by between views.
“The station was almost entirely automated, and was seldom operated directely. The few who came to do manual observations didn’t notice the difference,” Cisimi observed.
“If something is done slowly enough, we don’t notice. This invisible change is even more likely when we aren’t even clued into what could be changing. ” Cisimi explained.
“In fact, you probably haven’t noticed that Junior Lieutenant Cisimi’s uniform has shifted color from the slate grey shade to a blue color,” Kazochi remarked.
Ocura’s eyes darted to Kazochi and then back. Her eyes switched between Cisimi and the other uniforms. Indeed, Cisimi’s uniform was slightly blue in color. The holographic emitters that Kazochi turned on had slowly bathed Junior Lieutenant La-Nares in a blue light, making the uniform change in the smallest steps during Cisimi’s explanation.
“Alright. Point taken,” Ocura acknowledged. “Then how’s the loop staying in the same position? Why isn’t it moving with the rotation? Or being destroyed?”
“That is why we are here,” Ayabegei announced, drawing her back into the focus. “Anlov has an investigation team being transferred from their current assignment to research Pas-332-D-9, but it will be at least two months before it can begin.”
“We are being sent in to do a cursory review and analysis of the moon,” she clarified. “We will be sending an away team to deploy sensors, make preliminary measurements, and collect samples. If the observatory on D-2 had the capacity to launch automated probe launch-and-retrieval, it would have done these tasks itself.”
“It should all be fairly routine,” she stated, closing down many of the projections floating around the table.
“Junior Lieutenant Edesium,” Geib broke. “Do you know of any lore about a moving forest or jungle?”
“Uhm…” Kazochi trailed, sifting through her vast memory. “There have been legends and folklore from various cultures about sentient forests that are capable of collective locomotion.”
“None of them are even close to this solar system, nor do they have any settlements nearby,” she added, bringing up projections from her internal computer of various scans of storybooks and paintings.
“Could they’ve been inspired by a visit to the moon?” Cisimi entertained.
“I thought I said this would be fairly routine,” Ayabegei interrupted. “Scans are showing no signs of sentient life, let alone a group mind.”
“Junior Lieutenant La-Naraz, you are a scientist; you should know better than to humor their flights of imagination,” the doctor commented regarding Geib and Kazochi.
Head and arms flittered slightly as Cisimi planned her words.
“There is nothing unscientific about considering the possibility of ideas,” La-Naraz replied.
“Such considerations are for after you have tested all other plausible explanations,” Ayabegei responded. “Considering them before investigation can influence said investigation.”
“Of course, of course,” Cisimi conceded, avoiding the possibility of instigating a conflict.
“The away team will deploy from above the moon’s orbit and land on the following coordinates on the sun side, less than a half kilometer from the edge of the haven loop,” Ayabegei detailed. “Stealth will not be required, but discretion will still be taken. Samples, data, and tests will be conducted in the most unobtrusive way possible. After all tasks are completed and the away team recovered, we will take the data to the investigation team pending transfer so that they can begin analysis while waiting for their transfer.”
“So, the away team,” Geib announced loudly, snapping some of the crewmembers out of a slight stupor that they’d sunk into. “It’ll consist of…”
Suge’s hand launched straight up.
“You want to volunteer?” Geib asked.
“I’d like to, yes,” Suge replied calmly.
“Okay, excellent. The away team will consist of Vihili…” Geib continued.
Dogot’s hand slowly snaked upward.
“You too Chieuch?” Geib inquired.
“Ye-yes please,” he stammered.
Geib scratched at his head before shrugging.
“Sure. Anyone else want to volunteer?” Geib requested, giving up assigning directly.
“I think Pip-is and I should go,” Nuta announced.
“Wha? Me? Why?” Pip-is rattled off.
“You could use the exercise,” Nuta replied with a smile.
“I shower jus’ a’much as’nyone else!” Pip-is retorted with increasing fluster.
“That’s not what I meant,” Nuta waved. “I meant that you and I’ve both been cooped up too long.”
“No,” Ayabegei quelled. “You are both not ready. Furthermore, Junior Lieutenant Vihili will not be available for sortie due to his work on the physical training program.”
Again, Suge’s hand jolted upward.
“I can deploy on the mission and provide support to Specialists Lyr and Odeylum,” he suggested. “They won’t be a problem with me present.”
“Your assessment stated that while Specialist Odeylum is showing progress, both are not at a performance level suitable for deployment,” Ayabegei countered.
“I assure you that the mission won’t be in jeopardy. The danger expected would be minimal at most, so a trial deployment would be acceptable here,” Suge explained.
“The atmosphere is much richer in specific gases than any of our bodies to handle. You are certain that safety would be maintained even with the use of atmospheric suits?” Ayabegei continued.
“I’m sure that it would,” Suge replied resolutely.
“This is a terrible idea, but I am allowing it only because you are confident that your and Junior Lieutenant Chieuch’s skill would outweigh the novice status of the two Specialists,” Ayabegei resigned after a long internal deliberation.
“Excellent,” Geib cheered. “Mom approves of the baby-sitters.”
A flurry of strokes and cuts from Ayabegei turned off all the projections and brought the lights back on in the conference room.
“You are all dismissed. Sortie in two hours. Commander, if you would remain, I think we need to have a discussion,” the doctor hastily informed.
Each crewmember slinked out of the room, avoiding any contact or view of the two lingering crewmembers. Tension in the room was palpable as the doctor’s body trembled with frustration.
Exiting the room, Mahie jabbed slightly at Nuta.
“See? Aren’t they adorable?” she asked.
He shook his head; he didn’t see anything adorable about his friend’s behavior and the doctor’s reactions.
————————————–
“She’s right you know,” Kazochi agreed. “You shouldn’t belittle her.”
“I’m not belittling her,” Geib replied.
“You sure as hell are,” Ocura snapped.
Ocura stepped away from her work on expanding the hallway leading to the bridge’s entrance.
“Your teasing might be fine with your friends, but you aren’t supposed to be that way as a commander or as a figure of authority,” Ocura scolded. “Even if she’s a lower rank, she still acts as your boss.”
“Look at you, adopting and following regulations so quickly,” Geib nervously jested as he felt miniscule from the Ocura’s scolding.
“And it sure as hell won’t be sent my way,” Ocura hissed.
“She isn’t Lyr, Odeylum, or me,” Kazochi added, albeit much less intensely as Ocura. “You’re familiar with us, but don’t be like that with Rugebov. Really, you shouldn’t be like that at all anymore.”
Ignoring the look on Kazochi face was impossible for Geib. Normally she was always smiling, but her face now showed no signs of levity. All throughout their schooling together, he only ever saw that face on his friend when something had clearly gone too far.
That was certainly him in this case.
“All of you are right,” Geib lamented. “I shouldn’t be acting like the class clown that barely scraped through school.”
“You’re incredibly lucky to get this chance to command. You’re an idiot if you’re trying to risk that,” Kazochi added.
“I know I know…” Geib accepted. “I guess I just feel this need to provide a foil to her hyper serious nature.”
“It isn’t your place to do that,” Kazochi rebuked. “Providing character dynamics isn’t in your job description.”
“I’ll do my best, but I admit it’ll be difficult to stop entirely,” Geib finally conceded, hoping to put the scolding at bay.
————————————–
Flying in the dropship was such a smooth ride. With its own anti-physics shielding, it didn’t buck or rumble from the flight. Passing through a thin atmosphere didn’t hurt either. Inside, Dogot, Suge, and Pip-is sat in awkward silence as Nuta flew the ship down across the unending backdrop of desert. Not a single feature or blemish broke the monotonous scape. It would be impossible not to get lost if one was on foot in the desert. The sun didn’t move enough to indicate a direction and no part of the world looked any different from the other.
Navigational equipment aboard the dropship didn’t lessen the Nuta’s worries that he might be lost. Trusting the calibrated and updated maps, Nuta continued across the disorientating planet side.
Inside the silent and somber crew hold, Suge sat with his head facing down and his arms folded. It would be easy to assume he was sleeping with how immobile he was. Quills flexing and twitching were the only indication the silent, stony Scholar was awake.
Both Dogot and Pip-is were talkers by nature, yet were uncharacteristically mute in the presence of their soundless crewmember. Swallowing several times to clear his dry throat, Dogot finally shattered the silence.
“So, you like plants huh?” he squawked, voice cracking as he struggled through a small sentence.
Beneath the ridge his sloped head lead to, Junior Lieutenant Vihili’s eyes snapped open. Raising his head in the most menacingly slow way possible, Suge stopped as soon as his pupils cleared the obstruction his brow formed. Dark pupils contained by the thinnest moat of brown iris quelled all noise. The dropship’s engine quieted too, perhaps intimidated by the leering. Across his head and upper body, Suge’s quills snapped back with a loud click like the sheathing of a blade.
Was this visage even real? Was he aware that his exaggerated features combined with the demeanor of a stereotypical tough guy image was almost laughable?
Almost.
“My interests, and even their existence, are none of your business,” came the soft response that still shook the listeners with the force of a shockwave.
Sinking back into his seat, Dogot’s ears flicked open as an innate fear response. Pip-is slid along his seat towards the cockpit. He started to climb up the steps to the raised cockpit, but that same calm, but fierce voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Don’t distract the pilot. Remain in your seat,” Junior Lieutenant Vihili ordered.
“I wa’just gonna ask…” Pip-is started.
“Your motivations are irrelevant,” Suge dismissed, tilting his head back down.
As he sunk back into his seat, Pip-is quickly regretted being drug along with Nuta. Nuta and Geib were always dragging him into these bull-crap and stressful scenarios. He reminded himself that he needed less outgoing friends.
“Pilot,” Junior Lieutenant Vihili shouted over the quiet hum of the ship’s engines and generators.
Buckled into a restraint harness didn’t stop Nuta from jumping in surprise at the sudden outburst.
“Yes, Lieutenant?” Nuta replied, forgetting the Junior half.
“What’s our ETA?” Suge inquired.
“Oh it’s okay for him to distract the pilot?” Pip-is grumbled internally.
“Less than five minutes,” the pilot responded. “I can see the…”
“That’s all,” Suge cut in.
“This guy’s a hard ass just because,” Pip-is noted, careful to keep his observations in his head.
“Suit up,” Suge ordered as he stood as high as he could with the low ceiling.
You wouldn’t be too absurd to expect the very ceiling to try to move out of his way.
————————————–
Sticky, hot, and heavy air flooded in through the opening door of the dropship. Pip-is groaned in discomfort. While the others empathized, they kept from voicing matching groans. Regardless of the suits internal cooling systems and thermal shielding, the heat bludgeoned them.
Gravity was weaker on the moon than normal Anlov gravity, but the footsteps were heavy from the fatigue the cruel temperature triggered. Only the few meters between their ship and haven loop’s edge was enough to produce a thick layer of sweat on the faces of Suge, Pip-is, and Nuta. Being reptilian, Dogot wasn’t sweating, but no less sweltering.
“Why’sit so hot? A’these air conditioners doin’ anythin’?” Pip-is whined.
“You have enough energy to complain, then you have enough energy to continue,” came Suge’s compassionate reply.
In Suge’s wake, the other three lagged behind. Dogot, while having as much training as Suge, couldn’t keep pace with Suge’s increasing momentum. Turning, his suits camera relayed the sight of both Pip-is and Nuta staggering along as fast as they could. Pip-is barely lifted his feet, kicking the coarse brown sand out of his path.
So focused on their drudging, that Pip-is almost tripped over the roots and brush at the edge of the haven-loop. He staggered backward, barely keeping his balance.
“Place the geo sensors a half meter from the closest piece of foliage,” Dogot ordered, catching Pip-is from stumbling further.
He pulled two large spikes from Pip-is’ pack and handed one to him. Pip-is meandered back away from the edge of the loop. Fog coated the inside as his helmet as the vents worked overtime to clear the obstruction. He turned back to see Dogot give him a confirming gesture. They both placed their spikes into the ground, burying them by pressing them down with their feet.
“Watch your step this time,” Dogot advised, helping Pip-is over the thick hedges on the border of the haven loop.
Stepping in through the gates of thick hedges, the Scholars entered the oasis from the inhospitable world. Temperature dropped the second they stepped inside. Being a jungle, it was still sweltering, but not nearly as much as a desert that never left the gentle grace of a merciless sun.
Craning their heads to marvel at the canopy above, each crewmember took in as much as their sensory deadened suits would allow. Seldom did a single ray of light pierce through the canopy of interlocking treetops. So precious was the habitable space that an entire jungle crowded within the narrow space. It was standing room only, and every nook remaining had a petite plant filling the cracks.
Trekking through the bottom of the forest proved to be just as exhausting as their light romp across the few meters of desert. Feet found no purchase as every centimeter of the ground was covered by roots and brush. Often these obstacles were hip high.
Grunts were the sounds most present in this jungle as the Scholars climbed through the underbrush. Collecting samples was a chore no less laborious as thick bark and casings necessitated the use of small drills. Their hardy hides deflected the penetration attempts, and the underbrush tripped at the legs of the explorers. Hosting the visitors wasn’t in the jungle’s plans.
Watching the projection fed to him on the inside of his helmet, Dogot saw Suge stand aside a towering spire of life that held up the ceiling above. Paralleling a tree enough to simply be referred to as one, it rose straight up into the canopy high above. Smooth like a stone column, it didn’t bend or waver. Sprinkled throughout the long trunk were dozens of long dangling filaments resembling deflated balloons. Near the ground, the roots crowned up and into the trunk not too different from a large sea beast breaking through the water. Topping the titanic plant was a wide circular dish over five meters in diameter. Anything beyond that dish wasn’t visible.
Suge ran his hand slowly along the largest of these trees. Larger than any of the others, its trunk was wider than any five other trees around. Filaments on the trunk were denser and more numerous. With so many of these strands hanging off the trunk, it belied the image of a long beard on a wizened sage.
Druidic in behavior, Suge silently gazed in awe at the residents of this jungle.
Snapping and crashing bounded unabated through the jungle. Turning in the direction of the sound’s origin, the crew found themselves facing where they had entered the jungle. So dense were the trees packed together that they couldn’t see the few meters to the outside of the jungle.
Curtains opening to a stage, the jungle around them moved to reveal a view past the canopy. Trees lowered and tilted their tops towards the clustered crewmembers like the heads of giants turning to look down. Through the newly opened window, the crew watched in dread as twisted, gnarled, and writhing mass of vines hoisted the dropship into the air above. Shadows from this seizing claw and its confiscated ship filled what little space of light’s entrance into the jungle floor.
Under his suit, Suge’s quills twitched wildly. Unable to detect anything through the encasing of the suit, he forced his quills to remain motionless. He saw the others twist and turn about looking from the bound ship, to him, to the jungle all in the hope of making some sense of this insane development. Weapons had been drawn by each crewmember and were scanned through the viewable jungle for the off chance that this was an attack.
Problems not occurring had been Suge’s certainty. Now, since the hope had fallen through, adaptation to it was paramount.
“Cardboard Box, this is sortie team 01,” Suge announced on the comm. “We’ve encountered a critical set-back.”
Panic was quelled slightly just from his commanding voice and calculating composure. Understating the severity of the situation could almost pass for humor. However, humor didn’t suit him well.
“What’s your situation 01?” Cisimi inquired over the comm.
“Patching through video feed now,” Suge replied. “Our ship has been swept up by animate plant life.”
“Oh goodness,” Cisimi expressed the extent of her ability to convey shock.
In the background, Suge could hear those with less restraint swearing in alarm.
“We are receiving your feed,” Ayabegei spoke through the comm. “We will be dropping in to low orbit to deploy cutters.”
“No,” Suge replied coldly, but quickly. “We’ll retrieve it. We’ll minimize damage to the plant life. Cutters would cause too much damage.”
Across the feed, only the slight crackle of the open comm could be heard.
“Very well,” Ayabegei relented. “We will be watching intently. If there are any further disrupting events, we will begin the process of intervention.”
Turning to face the others with such speed and power, Suge could’ve moved the earth with his about-face. Snapping around was enough to bring the others to attention.
“Load bladed rounds in your weapons,” Junior Lieutenant Vihili planned. “I’ll attempt to scale that protrusion.”
“It’s twisting and thrashing about,” Dogot protested quietly. “It’s too dangerous.”
Vihili’s voice overshadowed Chieuch’s with the continuation of his orders.
“After I’ve entered the ship, I’ll pilot it back into the desert. You’ll each double time it back out of the jungle into the desert where I’ll collect you.”
“Understood?” he finished.
“Yes,” Dogot replied quickly.
Nuta and Pip-is confirmed more slowly and less confidently.
Sliding climbing claws onto his feet and arms, Suge sprinted as best he could through the thick growth on the floor. Throwing himself into the air, he pressed off the solid steps the trees became.
On the ground, the other crewmembers watched as Suge launched himself with carefully placed thrusts against the trees. Bearing witness to this feat of agility, the crew were also witness to the alarming scene of tangled roots punching out from the ground and wrapping around Suge’s ankles. Snaring like a wire trap, cables of living wood and fiber plucked the fleet footed Scholar right from the air. A symphony of crashing and snapping echoed through the tightly knit jungle as Suge was thrown to the ground.
Hurdling over the growth, while firing cutting rounds into the net of living cables, Dogot rushed to the Junior Lieutenant’s side.
Suge popped his own dislocated shoulder back into place. Nanomachine filled paste seeped from ports in his suit to patch up the small hole that a quill on his upper chest made. Slowly the moving fluid covered the hissing hole, stopping the escape of precious atmosphere.
Wrenching the still writhing vines from his suit, Suge also pushed Dogot away from his hover above him.
“I’m fine,” Suge excused as he stood back to his feet.
Stepping back, Dogot raised his weapon to scan the jungle. He turned to see Pip-is and Nuta had caught up to him and were matching his scan.
Rustling washed through the jungle, ending abruptly around the Scholars. An unsettling silence permeated the world around them. Above, the mass of branch and twig still clasped the ship, but didn’t move or give any sound.
Erupting around them shot streams of cable-like tangle. You would almost think you were falling into the ground, but in reality, the ground was lifting above you.
Slithering around the weapons each crewmember held, these serpentine plant limbs snapped the armaments into the air. Drab grey coloring of the weapons were consumed with the livid colors of the jungle’s twisting fingers. Ferrying the contraptions away, the living forest confiscated the Scholar’s weapons. Snaring roots carried the Scholars themselves in disorientating suspension over to the larger tree Suge had marveled at earlier.
Dropping them without grace in a heap in front of the great tree, the possibility of sentience within the jungle was becoming more likely. This certainty was all the more salient as thin tendrils on the trunk of the larger tree stretched out slowly towards the crewmembers.
Alarmed voices of the remaining crew aboard the Cardboard Box was only a buzz as Suge was fixated on the actions of the plant life surrounding him.
“Don’t. Not yet,” he answered over the comm, only subconsciously hearing the statements on the other end.
“We need to call in the Kriovitl. They must intervene with you at risk,” Cisimi protested the clearest amongst the other crewmembers.
“If whatever is causing this wanted us dead, we would be already,” Suge observed.
“No, they want something,” he added looking upward to the tree tops pointed down towards him.
Something, perhaps the very something wanted by this intangible force, was shown to the crew. This something was displayed through interweaving vines, creating a crude puppet show. Likenesses of each crewmember sprang into shape from the moving platform of roots and vines. Behind their depictions, the jungle formed and the puppets representing the Scholars awkwardly walked away from the jungle.
Marveling at the organized intelligence was simply a certainty. These seemingly unintelligent trees had the capacity to observe and imitate the behaviors of the bizarre interlopers that walked among them. When presented with harmful stimuli from the cutting rounds, the trees were able to react by seizing the means to launch those projectiles. With speed you would assume inappropriate for foliage, they caught a fast moving intruder as he vaulted amongst them. What that particular intruder was hoping to reach was the very vessel it arrived in with its peers. Somehow, a collection of typical fixtures at a botanical garden had enough cognitive capacity to recognize that to withhold this ship, which they would have no knowledge of ships, was to command the attention of those who came from it. Perhaps it was biological; this mother ship birthed some strange beings, so capturing mom would get the kids to pay close attention.
Maybe this living forest, more living than usual, had encountered travelers before?
Rustling like a hurricane, the jungle bristled with spurious movement. Continuing the play in front of them, the grove displayed the renditions of the Scholars awkwardly striding away from the forest. Suge’s depiction awkwardly hopped occasionally as it traversed with the others.
Suge almost smiled as he watched his character leap about clumsily.
The moving stage composed of living, knotted mass updated in front of the characters to have them walk up to a deep trough. Beyond that valley, the twisting stage animated to depict a large stretch of high points and tumbling pits.
It was like a cartoon drawn live in front of the Scholars. An animated version of the tree walked slowly past the Scholars’ depictions and headed straight off the jagged cliffs. Falling into the divide, the tree’s depiction snapped in half.
Though the depictions only had as accurate of texture and detail as one could expect of interweaving natural rope, the crew could see the distress the depicted tree went through as it fell into the crevasse. Masterful use of the marionettes had the tree splinter and fragment as it fell to its death.
Switching the scene back to the depictions of the Scholars lumbering on towards the same crevasse and pointed cliffs. As they reached the edge, the started preforming a strange dance and moving tools about in an unguided fashion. Peaks and recessions lowered and rose to blend into a flat surface.
Concluding with a rustle throughout the jungle, the play ended.
“Wha’s tha‘bout?” Pip-is asked aloud.
“Those hills and valleys,” Mahie started over the comm. “Those are the massive canyons on the shaded side of the moon.”
“They want us to level the terrain,” Suge concluded.
“Who’re ‘they’?” Pip-is interrupted.
“Look around,” Suge whispered.
Not a single plant didn’t shimmy or sway. Trees, shrubs, vines, and flowers all shook freely of any wind. An entire chorus of movement surrounded them.
“The very jungle speaks to us,” Suge concluded, almost wistfully. “We’ve made contact with a life form undiscovered before.”
“But we can’t help them right?” Nuta replied. “We aren’t allowed to intervene with their affairs.”
“We can’do’nything?” Pip-is asked rhetorically, growing in alarm. “We’d be stuck here! W’ need’ta call f’help”
Turning back to face those in his charge, Suge calmed the others. They could see each other’s faces on the separate screens on the inside of their helmets. Even being a small screen, Suge’s piercing glare invoked silence in the others.
“That’s correct. Besides, we couldn’t help them even if we wanted to,” Suge replied, voice sinking a tad lower. “We’re requesting the Kriovitl arrive in system in the event it’s needed. We don’t need to panic.”
His alert eyes snapped right to Dogot tapping away at a small computer he hid within his hand.
“What’s that?” he whispered, not sure why he was.
“Communication,” Dogot replied cryptically as he finished his work.
He slowly reached for a small conical device fastened on his suit. He carefully pulled it off its hook and attached the computer he had tucked away into it.
Swimming along the ground like serpents, tangle reached out for this device, ready to seize this new weapon. The top of the cone split open and up floated numerous liquid strands, glowing darkly like obsidian. The jungle’s clasping hands recoiled, dispelled by the glowing liquid freezing into the form of one of the trees. Standing at only a fraction of the height of the type of tree it mimicked, the Scholars now had their own ferrofluid puppet.
Above, the treetops edged closer in.
Pressing a series of commands into his small computer, the frozen tree swayed slightly. Flickering back and forth, shaking wildly and peacefully swaying, the glowing puppet shook in a myriad of ways.
Tense silence filled the jungle. Not a single movement was made. Not even the dust reflecting in the light moved. Continuing slowly, the larger tree shimmied.
Driest in monotone, the conical device spoke for the massive jostling tree.
“Have is our speak,” the voice noted with zero voice inflections.
“You already established a translation system?” Suge asked.
His voice sounded like it ended with a question, but there was also a tone of surprise. These hints of inflection were strong enough to break through his own monotone.
Rubbing the top of his helmet in an unconscious act, while laughing nervously.
“Oh it was nothing,” Dogot dismissed.
“I don’t know, I think it’s pretty impressive,” Nuta commented.
“Good. Then tell them of our mission and how we aren’t able to assist them,” Suge ordered.
“What’f they’ttack when we tell ‘em we can’ help?” Pip-is worried. “What’ll we do?”
“I’ll get Specialist Odeylum and yourself off this moon first. Now be quiet,” Suge snapped.
Within his suit, Pip-is shuddered to himself. These plants could easily kill them; what made the Junior Lieutenant so sure?
Dogot’s digits flew across the computer pad he held, he summarized an entire system of conduct into a few flickering motions of the avatar tree.
As this miniature flitted about, a wash of noises emitted from the translator. Around the jungle, many plant forms jittered about, speaking all at once. Voices blended together so that nothing clear could be heard at all. With a strong whip of the tendrils on its trunk, the dominating tree silenced the voices echoing through the forest.
Even these forms had their own Suge to tell them all to shut up.
“Ok, I sent a brief synapsis,” Dogot reported as he pulled slightly at his clinging suit.
Crackling, the translator came to life. It was a testament to Dogot’s prowess that he was able to quickly record, decipher, and replicate the communication techniques of life forms never before encountered in such a short time without a more powerful computer. Anlov’s computers could translate any language with dizzying speed, but it still look hours to crack a simple spoken language.
Two incredible sights on one moon: a living jungle and the quick translation of its communication.
Yet both were glossed over with the possible danger presented by said forest.
“Speak you gapped. We understand enough,” the translator droned. “Learners you. Noble. But have means. Level world. Highs lows destroy us will. Please.”
This monotonous voice was quickly downed out with several other voices as the forest rumbled. Only a few were clear enough to stand out from the mess of vocalizations.
“Ask? Tell!”
“Us bend they.”
“Make do now. Soon comes jagged edges.”
“Sounds like not all of them are as civil as the big one,” Nuta observed.
“Why d’ya ‘ave’ta bring me?” Pip-is exclaimed to Nuta. “They wanna kill us’er force us.”
Putting an end to the voicing of his concerns, the translator spoke back up with the dominating hollow voice.
“I beg. Others want to force. I ask,” the larger tree pleaded. “Older ones, saplings when, spoke jagged edges impossible life. Soon there. Level. Please.”
“Soon?” Nuta commented aloud. “It’d be hundreds of years before they even got close to the mountain range.”
“They must perceive it as soon to them,” Dogot replied. “What should I say?”
“Repeat that we can’t level the terrain,” Suge ordered. “Tell them that we couldn’t do that with our equipment, but we can try to ask someone who could.”
With each gesture the avatar, the jungle around them grew more restless. No translator was needed to see the fury in the writhing of the world’s plant life. Shaking with might of a hurricane’s winds, the earth beneath erupted around Suge.
Instinctively, the others reached for their weapons, finding their holsters still empty.
Coiling around his limbs, the tangle, the hands of the jungle, bound the Scholar. Winding and encircling, the fabric of the suit was strained by the constricting roots.
Tears and rips spread throughout his suit, hissing precious atmosphere out.
“No ask.”
“No wait.”
“Bigger is weak. We take.”
“Force.”
“No patience. Act now.”
All through the bickering of the confederacy of flora, Suge was pulled and yanked in contrasting directions. Openings on his suits spread further open. Nanomachine filled paste flowed out of ports on his suit, but struggled to keep the constant damage repaired.
“Now what?” Nuta snapped, cool façade fading, and joining Pip-is in worry.
“Remain calm!” Dogot ordered, showing a side of intensity unlike him.
He turned to their direction, and spoke over his shoulder.
“I’ll reason with them,” Dogot announced. “I’ll tell them that the tools are aboard the main vessel and we’ll need to send some of us up to retrieve those tools.”
Turning back to his computer, he carefully planned his words to the belligerent vegetation. Nuta and Pip-is were still too green. Dogot was terrified too, but he had to put that fear aside and work to save as many of his comrades as he could, and hopefully himself.
“The Kriovitl is inbound on your position now,” Cisimi announced over the comm. “Please be careful.”
“I hope we can be,” Dogot commented.
Pressing the final key, the semisolid tree projection rattled through a quick dance laden with micro movements. Like squabbling political bodies, many continued speaking throughout the dance, voices blending into each other. One tree in particular next to the largest one continued to flail about.
“They lie. They escape want.”
Dozens of voices echoed this malcontent. It was obvious that the larger tree was doing its best to remain patient with the rabble. Quaking earth parted for massive collection of roots, not unlike the one holding the dropship. It snapped with unsettling speed and coiled around the nearby dissenting tree.
Incredible that such subtly moving beings could move with such power and velocity when they needed to. Could that have been indicative of how they viewed the coming jagged edges? With how long it would take to get to the location of their fears, their terror pushed them to move with such vigor. If they were capable of such feats, the least of which was their overall ability to stay in the planet’s moving haven loop, surely they could adapt to the jagged edges.
“You’ll get means,” the translator buzzed.
Snapping and crashing, the natural tentacle holding the dropship lowered out of sight back to the sun-drenched desert. As the craft was lowered, the larger tree silenced the coiled tree that had been the most vocal opposing voice. Eavesdropping wasn’t the designed function of the translator, but it still translated the statements made from the gigantic elder tree to the previously silenced disgruntled tree.
“Respect me. You sapling,” the older tree chastised. “Haste endangers. Kill hurt saviors stupid.”
Coiling vines sprung from the earth like cartoonish animated growth. These snares wrapped around Dogot’s legs and thighs, binding him to the ground. Both Nuta and Pip-is recoiled at this attack, but Dogot remained seated with his computer as if nothing had happened. He maintained a solemn composure.
“We’ll have to be more like that,” Nuta softly observed over the comm.
Pip-is nodded in agreement. They still had a lot more conditioning and training they needed to do. It was assumed there would be no danger, but when do things ever go as planned?
“You two head back,” Dogot ordered.
His face could be seen on the two Specialists’ displays, but his determined and distant stare combined with his facing away gave the impression that he was worlds away.
“Now,” he raised his voice.
Crunching through the bramble, the two Specialists fled through the jungle. Every shrub, bush, and tree shook rapidly as they passed. Chasing them as they left, the fervently jostling plants screamed silently at them.
Breaking through the hedges, Pip-is and Nuta slumped slightly as the molten heat worked them over.
“We can’jus’ leave ‘em there!” Pip-is shouted, forgetting that his voice was patched right to Nuta’s helmet.
“Don’t be screaming,” Nuta replied quickly. “We have to assume they know what they’re doing. We’ll just be in the way.”
“We weren’t ready for this,” he continued. “We about wet ourselves.”
————————————–
“Switching off external speakers,” Suge grunted, tugging at his restraints, not to get free, but just not be pulled at harshly.
“On internal comm now,” Dogot replied.
“That was good thinking,” Suge commented. “Limit our possible casualties.”
“Th-thank you,” Dogot stammered.
A private comm channel opened on Dogot’s HUD.
“We aren’t supposed to be on these,” Dogot cautiously replied as he opened the channel with a click of the tongue.
“I know that,” Suge replied softly.
Grunting in pain and controlling his breaths to conserve the environment being vented from his suit.
“I wanted to say something while you and I are apart from the others,” he continued with raspy voice.
Junior Lieutenant Chieuch’s ears throbbed with rushing blood.
“You’re work was incredible,” Suge congratulated. “You did in a few seconds alone what many might be able to do in a weeks. That’s beyond impressive.”
“Thanks,” Dogot replied meekly.
If he weren’t cold blooded, he could swear his blood was warming on its own.
“I just paid close attention to the subtleties,” Dogot added, subconsciously rubbing the top of his helmet.
“More should,” Suge rasped. “You talk a lot, but listen just as well.”
“Sorry I’ve been cross with you,” Suge continued, voice draining. “I have to appear as unyielding as possible. For the Specialists.”
“I understand. Conserve your energy,” Dogot spoke up. “Cutting the private channel.”
“Air levels at distressing levels,” Suge reported with disturbing calmness over the collective comm. “Repair paste is failing.”
“Stay with us!” Kazochi barked over the comm. “The Kriovitl will be above your position within the minute.”
In his air-deprived state, Suge couldn’t hear the alarm present in every voice. He just thought how nice it would be to have a modern suit with better patching systems than this old one he was stuck with.
“That’s tool?” the translator spoke up with the monotone voice of the eldest tree.
“Such tool. It’ll level the jagged edges,” chirped the translator of several other speaking plants.
Looking up in the shadow of the gigantic, imposing ship, Dogot saw the set of large domes on the underside slide open. Light from these opening domes bathed the opening made from the parted treetops.
“Go. Jagged edges. Tell flat,” the leader tree requested.
Drawing in breath and holding it in, Dogot closed his eyes as one of the open domes deployed several cylinders.
Behind his eyelids and outside his windowless helmet, blazing beams of energy shot down and into the jungle.
Screams erupted from the translator.
“Light slice.”
“They betray.”
“Your fault.”
“All is lost.”
Speaking in monotones, the contents of their screams being filled with terror created a painful juxtaposition. If he had the physical capacity to cry, Dogot was sure he would. Here they found a unique collection of intelligent life never before encountered, and their first meeting with Anlov would be remembered as ending in violence. If only they had all been as civil as the older tree, the crew might’ve been encouraged to find a way to help. But none were as patient as the grand tree, who now received completely unrelenting berating from the rest of the jungle.
He heard them scream in toneless rage at the eldest tree for letting Pip-is and Nuta get away, as they assumed that were the ones launching the attack. Dogot kept his eyes closed. Searing heat swept just past his thighs. Vines that bound him scuttled back into the ground to escape the burning wrath of the visitor’s weapons. Some sliced pieces wiggled and flopped about, still with some life left in them.
Feeling his body becoming very light, his hand snapped outward to retrieve the translator device. Operating from memory, he retrieved it, as he still kept his eyes shut. It wasn’t for his own physical protection, but simply because he didn’t want to see the novel life forms being cut by the directed energy beams. Hearing it was painful enough.
During the trip up through the elevator tunnel that the Kriovitl projected, Dogot never looked down.
Reconstructive nanomachine filled paste was finally unrestricted in patching up Suge’s suit. He was still conscious enough to look down on the jungle below. Towering above the others, the largest tree, the only one that had been as civil as possible, was ripped up from its roots. Parts of its massive root system had been sliced apart by the Kriovitl’s energy beams. Segments from many other flora entities also lied in pieces from the rending they received. No fire was present from the beams, but the fire of fury consumed the vegetation.
Lingering in Suge’s tear filled eyes was the last images of the strife filling the jungle. All the discontents tugged the elder tree into the air with a display of incredible group strength. With the power that looked as minimal as a flick of the wrist, this ancient sage was pulled apart in a thunderous crack. Shards scattered onto the tops of the rioting woods.
————————————–
Rushing back into the world, Suge’s eyes flashed open. His quills twitched, scratching the bed he lied on. Looking downward, he could see the respirator attached to his snout of a nose. Tracing the tubes with his gaze, he saw the canisters and apparatus aside his bunk. It circulated biological restorative nanomachines into his lungs to repair any damages he received from his air depravation.
Nanomachines were the go-to method for many medical and technological applications for Anlov. This was the one technology that Anlov openly embraced and used, despite their nature of restraint from too advanced of technologies.
Past this pump, across the aisle in the lodging quarters, Dogot sat on his own bunk. He was seated with his back against the wall, asleep but still keeping watchful vigil over his injured crewmate. Both ears of the slumbering Yebolm instantly spread open. Such response was almost intimidating with how this deployment of a fanned set of membranes radically altered his appearance. Being frightening was just an evolutionary bonus.
Eyes with narrow pupils were revealed by Dogot’s quickly retreating eyelids. Slit like pupils widened and tapered to acclimate to the moderate level of light in the room.
Besides the quiet hissing of the machine, not a sound was heard as both Scholars remained with eyes awkwardly locked.
“You didn’t need to watch over me,” Suge dismissed as he reached over to shut off the pump.
He removed each of the plugs and cables from his body.
“I know I didn’t need to,” Dogot replied quietly.
Suge stumbled as he climbed out of his bunk, but was prevented a fall by the quick moving Dogot.
“Stop it,” Suge grumbled. “I failed us. I deserve no care.”
“How’d you fail us?” Dogot queried. “What could you have done?”
“I should’ve been more careful. I shouldn’t have brought the two Specialists,” Suge chastised himself.
Turning away from his crewmate’s look of concern, Suge continued to berate himself.
“There is no excuse. I was so excited by novel plant specimens that actually travel, so eager to get us down there, I made a novice mistake.”
“How’d you have known they were sentient? Our scanners didn’t detect anything to indicate that they were,” Dogot replied. “Besides, you handled it well. If you take a mistake as anything other than a lesson on how to avoid mistakes, you’re not seeing the point of mistakes.”
“Why couldn’t they’ve been patient?” Suge asked rhetorically. “We would’ve helped them. And even if we didn’t, they would’ve adapted. The same life could adapt to moving so they stay in the haven loop, but couldn’t adapt to some crag?”
Dogot was about to reply when he saw Suge’s quills twitch slightly.
“I apologize in advance,” Suge whispered quickly.
Right as the door to the lodging quarters opened, Suge stood up of his own accord and pushed Dogot away.
“Your proximity and your assistance aren’t warranted,” Suge scolded Dogot as Pip-is and Nuta stepped through the door.
Their shoulders crashed into each other, and both looked to the other to move out of the way. This standoff was brought to an end as Suge collided with the two Specialists as he headed out. Both Nuta and Pip-is tumbled backwards. Nuta was able to regain his balance and stay on his feet while Pip-is fell flat on his rear.
“I hope you enjoyed your excursion to that moon,” Suge grumbled as he looked down on Nuta helping Pip-is stand. “Your inexperience showed itself in an embarrassing display. Training will increase.”
“What’s his problem?!” Nuta whispered to Dogot as he and Pip-is stepped inside.
“We’re jus’ comin’by t’check on him, an’ thank ‘em for getting us’out,” Pip-is added.
“He’s just a shitty person,” Nuta continued. Dogot had to force himself to lie, and nod in agreement. He could hardly wait for the Specialists to become equal in skills as the Graduates. Maybe then, Suge would lower that façade he constructed.
————————————–
Burning like molten metal, the holographic eyes lost no bit of a furious visage during transmission. Standing at his actual height and his actual dimensions, the holographic projection of Admiral Izkuio Ryitonem stood in front of Senior Lieutenant Geib Patriz.
“Reading your report, I am dissatisfied,” the hologram smiled.
It took every bit of Geib’s self-restraint to not reply with sarcastic surprise. Geib had never been smacked around by a hologram, but he was pretty sure that if anyone could manage to make a hologram capable of physically damaging someone, it would be Ryitonem.
“You are trying to defy as many regulations as possible in a single trip?” the Admiral continued, not waiting for an answer. “Sent a small team, half of which are being deemed undertrained, on an unescorted sortie to a planet where sentient life resided. This same previously uncontacted life was able to detain your sortie team necessitating an armed intervention to rescue them.”
“Your diplomacy ought to be taught as a clear example of failure,” Admiral Ryitonem noted. “Come into contact with a new life form and proceed to make a great first impression by slicing them to pieces.”
Behind his calm face, Geib was throwing a variety of rude gestures towards his commanding officer. Seldom was Geib inclined to be disrespectful, but Admiral Ryitonem was notoriously cruel and unfair, especially to free-spirited people. Even if that person’s whimsical nature was in no way part of the current grievance, the paragon of fair judgment would somehow attribute the cause of the problem to that nature.
Geib was sure that Ryitonem knew he was being unfair in his analysis of Geib’s actions. He knew that above else, Ryitonem wanted Geib to call him out on it. That look in his eyes, a stalking predator, waiting for his prey to fumble even in the slightest. Ryitonem craved nothing more than to cancel this entire idea, and he looked for any reason. Geib wasn’t about to give him one by having an outburst.
“I have no excuse sir,” Geib managed to say without breaking his blank face.
The Admiral sneered.
“I am suspending your team from active deployments,” he announced, a toothy grin darkening the room by metaphorically vacuuming in all light from the room.
“You will be patrolling the area given in the following coordinates,” the Admiral cheered. “During this time, you will have your Specialists train more so until I am inclined to let them perform on active duty.”
Geib knew his face must’ve twitched ever so slightly, betraying the seething frustration underneath. The growth of the Admiral’s smile could only have come from seeing the slight change in Geib’s face.
None of this was Nuta and Pip-is’ fault. Sure they got a bit alarmed in the face of danger, but frankly, shouldn’t they? At least they maintained enough sense to not let their fear risk the mission any further. Ryitonem and those who reported to him only sought scapegoats.
“Yes sir,” Geib replied, keeping his bile in check.
“You are dismissed,” the holographic representation concluded, leaning his head back to look down his nose at the Senior Lieutenant.
Saluting this caustic commander was still difficult, but the knowledge that the exchange was concluded got him through the arduous task.
Stepping outside of the briefing room, leaning against the wall was the last person Geib wanted to see. Those aquamarine eyes belong to a monster as far as he was concerned.
“Why’d you report that Specialists Odeylum and Lyr were problems in that sortie? You know they had nothing to do with it,” Geib asked coldly.
Those same azure eyes flashed with fire.
“They certainly did not help,” she replied calmly, looking up from under her lowered brow.
“They certainly didn’t hurt!” Geib snapped back.
“We were incredibly lucky we were able to escape the scenario,” Ayabegei continued, being the calm voice to Geib’s growing disdain. “I realize that their inexperience did not exacerbate the problems experienced on this mission, but they did manifest at all. As I said, we were lucky to be able to realize they were not ready and still avoid a loss of crew.”
“Would you rather we continue, and have Specialists or other crewmembers lost on a future mission where we do not have luck on our side?” she asked pointedly.
Dropping a heavy stone onto a dusty floor was the image that came to his mind as his doctor’s question cleared away his growing cloud of angst.
Geib sighed.
“You’re right. We can’t expect that kind of fortune to be a regular fixture,” he relented.
“Now why’d he take the fact that we detected no sentient life forms as a failing on our part?” Geib inquired, growing more pacified. “Was that in your report?”
Ayabegei offered a none-too-reassuring shrug.
“I did not explicitly state that,” she commented. “However, with our equipment being older, it is possible that more advanced equipment could have been able to detect sentience signatures.”
Geib couldn’t help but smile. What Ayabegei had said in a subtle request for better equipment, Ryitonem took to mean a personal failing on their part.
An eyebrow arched up on Ayabegei’s face.
“We’ll have to do just as much as other teams with our lacking technology. I guess we’ll need to be more thorough,” Geib mused aloud.
Nodding in agreement, a scowl snapped back on Ayabegei’s face as Geib’s next comment rolled into her ears.
“Your efforts at requesting supplies was very beautiful. I think I can get past this. And I was being rude to you, so it’s only fair for you to speak poorly of me in review,” Geib commented.
Ayabegei snickered softly and shook her head. She knew better than to encourage his behavior, but it was impressive that he was able to combine so many different sentiments together to make a truly baffling statement. How else was a person to react to such a ridiculous series of sentences?
To be honest, having him confident and ridiculous was a lesser evil than when he was belligerent and shortsighted.
“Commander, you have another transmission from Admiral Ryitonem in the briefing room,” Dogot announced in the hallway’s comm.
“Understood,” Geib called over the comm.
“More well-meaning tattling?” Geib asked Ayabegei rhetorically as he turned around to enter the briefing room.
Ayabegei shook her head, not to say no, but to express dismissal.
Down the hall, the Senguin siblings were finishing up the expansion of the space.
“I thought Rio and Teliar were ornery,” Ocura thought to herself as she got back to work.
————————————–
Just as the botanist aboard the Cardboard Box predicted, the moving jungle on Pas-332-D-9 did adapt to the jagged edges they so feared. Some of the plants didn’t survive that transition to the wildly varying landscape, but by and large, the jungle remained intact.
With their perception of time, they’ll remember it was only moments ago that visitors came down who could’ve leveled the jagged edges. They’ll remember how they were hostile to these visitors and that a wise one amongst them had asked for peace and patience. Still fresh in their minds, they would recall how the visitors were rescued by their own kind and how the vegetation killed the wise one in their fear and haste.
With sentience and intelligence, we open the door to foolishness. It’s a paradoxical trade that we must let in idiocy to have wisdom. It was no different between any entities that had sentience. All erred. Haste, fear, and mistakes are the costs of life.
Anlov Record 